


Breath of Farore

by JʼLi (kibigo)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: A miserable pile of emissions, Emotions, First Times, Fucking The Night Away, Immediately Followed By Second Times, Immediately Followed By… You Get The Idea, Nudity, Other, Porn With Plot, Post-Calamity Ganon, Sex and Shrooms, messiness, what is sex?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 13:10:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19251865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibigo/pseuds/J%CA%BCLi
Summary: Zelda had to face the truth: She was no longer a Princess—and Link was no longer her Guard. What were they, then, now?





	Breath of Farore

**Author's Note:**

> I finally beat Breath of the Wild for the first time (Any%) the other day, and so here is the obligatory inaugural BotW smutfic. For once, it isnʼt some weird experimental artpiece. (Compared to my other smutfics, I mean.)
> 
> Set immediately after the final battle. _Mostly_ canon, which, in the context of Legend of Zelda, is about the best one has any right to expect. At time of writing, a oneshot; may be expanded at some point in the future.
> 
> Set to [soil by serpentwithfeet](https://serpentwithfeet.bandcamp.com/album/soil).

_And the Calamity, Ganon,  
  was defeated, finally, after all._

The pair walked from the site of their final battle; Zelda gave Link a tight smile; they, in turn, said nothing, as was their wont. She had been fighting for a year, and a hundred more, through struggle and pain, to hear the silence which accompanied that gaze. And the finality of their triumph hit her, pulled at her like an anchor, rooted in the moment between what _was_ and what _might be_ , and she felt her body sinking, falling, down to her knees.

Link paused in their steps, and, still without speaking, walked over to her, scooping her up.

Zelda supposed that they thought her weak—atrophied, from having been trapped within Ganonʼs chrysalis for all this time. Far from it: Her body was in peak condition—if a touch reek. A descendant of Hylia incarnate, she knew that Ganon had aimed to make use of her body in its manifestation of physical form; she had been able to leverage her divine protection to keep the both of them in stasis for the hundred years it took Link to reäwaken—and then kept the corrupting Malice at bay for the year it had taken them to restore the Divine Beasts and lay siege. One year exactly—she wondered if it was a coïncidence, but then knew that it mustnʼt be, that Link would choose this day, the one hundred and first anniversary of the Calamityʼs rise, to bring Ganonʼs defeat. Her spirit faltering at the exact moment that the Hero had arrived.

Her old Hylian mentors would have called it divine fate. Her old Hylian mentors, who had perished needless deaths by the absurd machinations of the universe, alongside countless others when the Calamity had struck. Zelda wasnʼt sure she believed in divinity, _or_ fate, any longer.

She let herself be carried in Linkʼs arms. Her body was in peak condition. Her emotions were another matter entirely.

She buried her nose in the fabric of their tunic—of Sheikah design; it was built for stealth, not combat; not what she had expected the Hero would wear to their final confrontation. But she could hardly complain now, the battle won, at the soft fabric with which her face was rewarded. She had almost forgotten their scent—no, rather, she _had_ —forgotten, its sudden presence tugging her backwards, and she felt the drops falling from her eyes at the thought; she didnʼt even know why—how does one put to words the reason behind oneʼs tears, shed for the sake of a smell? They had both forgotten things, in their hundred‑and‑one years apart; in their many trials and traumas there were pieces of themselves salvaged, and pieces which were left behind.

It was of little surprise that a Sheikah tunic would absorb teardrops well.

The nearest spot of cover was the ruins of Sacred Ground, really only a few score yards away, and Link carried her there, not even a bit protesting from the weight, neverminding that they were no doubt sore and exhausted from the fight—Zelda hadnʼt the heart to tell them to put her down. The trees offered them some seclusion, and shelter, and Link mechanically set about preparing a camp site, Zelda placed in the leaves. By the time the fire was roaring, she needed them to stop. ― Link, she said, softly. ― Please, just… be at peace. Come sit with me.

― Zelda, Link replied. Her eyes stung, acknowledging that the first word she had yet heard them utter was her name. ― Honestly, Iʼm keyed. And if I sit down now, Iʼm so exhausted, Iʼm afraid I wonʼt stir for another week.

― So be it. There was no room for argument in her voice. And Link sighed, and Link sat. Contrary to their claims, however, they didnʼt pass out the second their rear hit the leaves. They just stared into the flames, silence once again returning to their face.

This wasnʼt to say there wasnʼt still work to be done.

With a sigh, and after a minute, Zelda rose. ― I donʼt suppose you have any things stashed nearby? she asked.

― Yes. Under the northwest bridge, on the platform of the Grounds, Link said, slightly tilting their head in the direction of the ceremonial stage.

Zelda nodded. ― I think Iʼll just wash up, then. Back in a bit, she said, and departed.

She found herself there, on those stones, the Triforce engraving which pointed towards the Castle gates weathered but nevertheless distinctive. This was where she had appointed them her Guard—what a journey they had had together! Zelda reached under the northwest bridge and was rewarded with the promised sack, no doubt stashed there before the assault. She assessed their means. This was where she had begun her quest with Link—a quest which was now over.

The waters which surrounded the platform were decorative, only a foot deep, but fresh, and for ridding her body of Ganonʼs slime, they would have to do. Thankfully, it had been a warm day, and though it was now late into the evening, the water and stones were both suitably pleasant for the task. Link had been watching her up until this point—no doubt they still considered themself her Guard—but they looked away as she removed her ceremonial gown. Zelda cleaned as best she could. Then she heaved the bag over her shoulder and returned to them, still as a statue, not having moved an inch but for their eyes in the time she had been away.

She tossed her white dress into the flames.

― I hope you donʼt mind that I borrowed your clothes, Zelda said, and Link looked at her. She was wearing their old shirt and trousers, hair wet and undone, cheeks a little flushed from chill. She leaned into the flames. ― Itʼs lucky weʼre the same size, really.

The fire crackled. Zelda met Linkʼs gaze.

― You know, she said. ― You didnʼt have to watch. And you didnʼt have to look away.

She was attempting solemnity, but Link rolled their eyes and _Nayru_ if that didnʼt somehow still get her all riled up, even after all of these years. She flushed and shoved them lightly with her shoulder.

― Oh, donʼt _give_ me that! Zelda said. ― This isnʼt—! Goddesses, you—! —Look at me! Link!

They didnʼt; their gaze was focused back on the flames.

Zelda tried again, but softer this time. ― Link, she said. ― My Hero, please.

And this entreaty had its effect; Link looked her way—Farore, their fealty. And Zelda started crying. She hadnʼt intended—she had a whole _speech_ she wanted to—but now she was crying, and that wasnʼt the way. She wanted a pail. She wanted to douse the flames. She wanted to curl up, alone in the dark, in a small, cold cave. This wasnʼt what she wanted to say.

Link reached out and touched her ankle. It was the closest they were able to reach. And minutes passed, and Zelda slowly got her breathing back under control.

― What I _meant_ to say, she said, finally. ― Two things. First: Royal Guard might be a lifetime appointment, but the royalty which appointed you is no more. My kingdom hasnʼt existed for over a century. Forthwith: You are hereby relieved of your duties. I know how _stubborn_ you are— —and Nayru, were they ever― ― —so this likely will mean nothing to you. But I want it on the record that you owe no further sacrifice to me.

Link—to Zeldaʼs extreme gratification, and relief—tilted their chin downwards slightly, the barest whisper of a nod. But from the firmness of their gaze she knew she was right, and that their sense of duty extended far beyond mere obligation to a failed monarchy. They would not be leaving her side anytime soon, unless she expressly willed them to.

― Alright, Zelda continued. ― Secondly: You risked everything for this flesh—yes, Hyrule; yes, duty; but _me_ , _my body_ , and donʼt give me that, _I know you_. You risked your life so that, at the end of the day, this skin would still belong to me. Link… and now it was Zeldaʼs turn to look away: ― I donʼt want to have to keep it like _some secret_ around you.

And―to Zeldaʼs slight surprise―Link simply nodded again, gave her ankle a slight squeeze, and stared back into the flames. She had expected a protest—a remark about the impropriëty—a comment about their respective stations. But, in that moment, she realized _truly_ , beyond even her intellectual assertions, just moments ago, that the roles they once held no longer made any sense in this new world. And, more importantly: They no longer made any sense to each other.

― Hyrule has fallen, Zelda said, almost at a whisper. ― It fell a century ago. I am not a Princess any longer.

Those were the facts. The Calamity was over. Her lifeʼs purpose and mission—the task for which she had been preparing since birth—had reached its termination. And yet, somehow: Her time in this world had not. She had her entire life ahead of her. She was—effectively—only eighteen. She was not a Princess any longer.

― I think I need to lie down, Zelda said. When Link began to stir: ― Nope! Youʼre not to move. Youʼve already done more than enough today. _I_ will prepare the beds.

Bed—singular—as it turned out: Link only had a single mat. It took them no time at all to get settled and conked once it was laid—

—Zelda took the big spoon.

* * *

Link didnʼt remain dormant all week; indeed, they rose at sunrise and got a fire started, much unlike their (ex‑?)royal companion. Zelda groaned and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, unhappy to have lost their comforting body heat. Then Link, they went to go wash up, themself.

Zelda supposed that they _did_ sort of stink, not having had the energy or bother to wash before collapsing on the mat—not that she had minded _that_ smell in the least. It still lingered on their sheets, and she enjoyed it as she watched them, with intellectual curiosity, from their sheets—not secretively; Link could see her plainly from there, and they didnʼt seem to mind—she giggled and blushed a bit at the fact that they seemed to have a mild lingering case of nocturnal penile tumescence. Although, it beïng morning and them beïng _in a wood_ , she supposed the colloquial name did hold a certain level of aptness, if only for its punning potential.

The extra blood running to her head did wonders for curing her grogginess, actually. Zelda wished that she had access to a journal such that she could make a note.

By the time Link returned to the campsite she had begun their breakfast—eggs, and roasted shrooms. The latter she—quite accidentally—set aflame, and she yelped in surprise before Link very calmly put them out—somehow, they still tasted delicious. For not having cooked anything in over a century, Zelda deemed the effort a success.

― So, Link said, digging in. ― Whatʼs our plan?

― Hereʼs assuming I have one? Zelda asked, raising her eyebrows. ― You _do_ realize that Iʼve been locked in spiritual combat for the past century‑plus, right? Iʼve been out all of, what, twelve hours?

Link didnʼt buy this protest for a second, of course. ―  _I_ know _you_ , they said.

― Yes, yes, Zelda replied, harrumphing lightly. ― We both know each other.

The thought made her a little lightheaded, actually. She blinked slowly, clearing her mind.

― Well, first things first, we best head to Kakariko, Zelda said, finally, resigning to the correctness of Linkʼs assessment with a sigh. She _did_ have a plan, _of course_. ― Iʼm obviously _out of date_ regarding the current state of affairs, so whoëver is in charge there—youʼre not joking? Impa, because Link had mouthed the name, ― still, after all this time? Well, she will doubtlessly have more information on where we stand than I.

― I thought you said you were… watching me? Link asked. ― You do not know this already?

― Well, after a fashion, I suppose, Zelda said, a little flustered. ― I saw _you_ , not, uh, she waved her hand, ― anything around you. At least, not anything which wasnʼt similarly blessed by the Goddess. It was more of a _knowing_ , really—and I was busy, alright?

― Anyway, speaking of information, Link said, unhooking the device from their belt. Zelda recognized it immediately: the Sheikah Slate. ― I appreciate you for leaving this for me, but now that itʼs served its purpose, I still think of this as yours.

Her face lit up as she accepted the artefact, although her wooziness returned. She put a hand to her forehead. ― Youʼll have to excuse me, Zelda said. ― Iʼve been feeling a touch out‑of‑sorts, today.

― Well, thatʼs to be expected, I think, considering, Link remarked, playing lighthearted to dissuade them from actually bothering to consider.

― No, Zelda concluded. ― Not in that manner—I mean. I think the cause is… actually, you.

Link gave her a pained look.

Zelda smiled in response, and genuïnely. ― Iʼm just really glad to be with you, she said. ― Euphoric, I think. At times itʼs a bit much; Iʼm not used to having company which isnʼt—you know, trying to kill me. And moreöver, they were dedicated to her safety—but here it was again. ― You neednʼt worry; Iʼm sure the effect will fade in time.

Link nodded, and Zelda rose to her feet, dusting herself off. She coughed lightly, clearing her throat. ― Intellectually, I know that my objectivity must be compromised. Until my reasoning has had time to adjust to life post‑Calamity, you should probably take everything I say with a grain of salt, she laughed. ― That said—the things I feel, I feel them very _strongly_ right now, but I donʼt believe they are wrong. She pulled off her—or, rather, Linkʼs—shirt, taking a moment to appreciate the sun on her back and the brisk air on her chest before rifling through Linkʼs bag. ― I donʼt suppose you have a spare Sheikah armour? she asked, quick to return to business. ― Iʼll just get dressed, and we can be on our way.

* * *

Link did not, in fact, have a spare set of Sheikah armour, and so it was, with a cheeky grin and a playful sticking out of her tongue, that Zelda appropriated their Championʼs Tunic alongside Hylian Trousers to clothe her various regions. They put out the fire, and the two were on their way.

Travelling alongside Link in the days that followed was both nostalgic and unlike anything she had ever experienced before. To be walking alongside them without a firm timetable, without the pressure of her failure, to actually _enjoy_ the countryside, witnessing its various sights and cataloguing its many creatures, the landscape even less tame than she had remembered—and she tried not to let herself dwell on why that might be. It was a blessing that she could get used to. She knew that surely, word of the end of the Calamity must have spread by now, but if there were Sheikah of any variety keeping tabs on them, they didnʼt make themselves known. So Zelda dallied with the full knowledge that Impa, if nobody else, likely had everything under control.

The people of Hyrule had survived—thrived, perhaps—for one hundred years without her leadership. The land, if not the monarchy, was still vibrantly alive. Nothing she did—or failed to do—could change that fact, and she drew strength from this understanding: that her duties were no longer so vital as to prevent her from taking her damn time.

Still, the days moved on. Eventually, they were upon their goal.

― I… would like to speak with you, Zelda said, as they made their camp for the final day, knowing that they would likely reach the village on the following in early afternoon.

Link made a sweeping gesture with their arm, inviting her to continue. As if they werenʼt always available to listen to her, as she knew.

― As I said before, she continued, ― this has been a period of… transition for me, and when I arrive in Kakariko tomorrow, I have a feeling that everything is about to change again. What this means is: This is my last opportunity to make a decision regarding what my feelings are _right now_. Itʼs a little intimidating, she laughed, ― because I still feel a little off‑kilter. But I want something definite, which I can put down and remember about this time.

― Feelings? Link asked.

― Iʼm sorry, I should have clarified, Zelda said. Nevertheless, she did not do so directly. ― —Did you know that I went and fought Ganon for you? she asked. ― I mean, for Hyrule of course, I did it for Hyrule, but in actuality, I was… At the time I thought it love. In retrospect, I realize it was infatuation—really, only a crush. I had a really big crush on you.

Link did not appear surprised by this new information, just patiently accepting. Zelda let herself draw close to them. ― This… she said, firmly, circling her hand around the space which separated their chests. ― Itʼs hard for me to wrap my head around what it is, exactly. What it is I feel. But I do know this much: It is _not_ a crush.

― You wish to talk about… your feelings regarding me? Link asked.

― I think I love you, Zelda said. She stated it plainly: There was no point in hiding the truth from them, not after everything. ― But at the same time, it doesnʼt feel anything like how I have heard love described. At once, it feels less—and much, much more. It isnʼt infatuation, but it _is_ desire—desire to be a part of you, a part of your life, to be _with_ you, two bodies within one flesh, one heart within two minds.

― I canʼt tell if youʼre trying to marry me or fuck, Link laughed. ― It is unlike you to speak so… poëtically.

― If you asked me to marry you, without a secondʼs thought I would say yes, Zelda said, and it was true that she hadnʼt thought about it at all, or needed to. ― But, I mean, is there really any point in marriage anymore, in these times? She thought the entire concept felt… antiquarian. They had _already_ sworn their lives to each other; « husband » felt like a horrendous demotion. ― Regarding the other, I… am compelled to leave the ball firmly in your court, but would be lying if I did not admit at least some intellectual curiosity.

― Intellectual curiosity?

― Well, Zelda remarked plainly, ― I canʼt imagine a person I would feel safer with, for having my first time.

And silence fell between the two of them. Link, as was their way, had listened calmly without interjecting with opinions of their own. But, with this, their input was a matter of some practical consideration.

― I have told you this out of honesty, Zelda said, ― and because I wanted to assert the truth of it for myself. You are under no obligation to reciprocate my feelings, or to speak personally on this matter with me, and certainly not at this time. Nevertheless, I _am_ curious, and it is our last night, and I know sometimes you need a bit of prodding, even when you _want_ to share your feelings…

― I want you to be safe, and I want you to be happy, Link said. ― I donʼt mean that in a condescending way— they quickly clarified, ― —it makes _me_ happy, to see you enjoying yourself. Regarding the rest of it… You are _already_ an enormous part of me. I donʼt see how that could ever change. They sighed, looking off into the distance. ― I think you are right. It is love, it is less, and it is more. I would never allow myself to have a crush on you; I _have_ had crushes—I know infatuätion, and this isnʼt. At the same time—I would never leave your side, and my body is yours.

Well. ― May I… kiss you, then? Zelda asked, and Link nodded, and she brought her face close, and took in the smell of them, and pressed her lips softly against theirs. Then she drew back, and studied their expression. ― Did that… do anything for you? she asked.

What an experiment. They smiled, which she knew to mean that it had. ― …And you? Link asked.

― I feel like my heart is breaking in the most wonderful of ways, Zelda said, ― and I want more.

* * *

They were the Divine Vessel and they were Her Chosen Hero, and they were two (one‑hundred‑plus‑)eighteen‑year‑olds exploring anotherʼs body for the very first time, and they were completely and utterly naked, lying on a blanket, beneath a full moon.

― Was this your first time as well, then? Zelda asked, idly tracing Linkʼs chest, her leg wrapped around theirs. She had demanded—politely—they walk her through exactly how they liked to be pleasured, which was to say, how they pleasured themself, and it wasnʼt long before they were gripping the blankets and grinding against her hand and making an awful mess everywhere which she somehow felt no urge to clean up. She lifted their member curiously, soft and flaccid and still slick with the chu jelly they had used as lube, examining it intriguingly in its spent, dormant state.

Link nodded. Zelda brought her fingers to her lips and sucked on them gently. ― Itʼs nothing like I thought it would taste, she said. ― Not in a bad way, but itʼs a stronger flavour. Something I donʼt think I would like anywhere else. But here itʼs almost… appetizing. I wonder why that is?

Unlike Link, Zelda hadnʼt had time alone in over a century—not that she hadnʼt experimented with nearly every masturbation technique known to Hyrule, in her youth, and kept an extensive journal, because of course she had—but that was locked away in the Castle, possibly forever destroyed, and it had been _some time_. So it was a bit of a learning process for the both of them, and when she had orgasmed to their ministrations, it had been like the last of her weights had finally fallen off of her back. Everything felt different under their touch, and she knew that she would need an entirely separate catalogue for this—once they had made it to Kakariko, if—as she now fervently hoped, this night received a reprise. Even so, it was potentially their last night alone for a while. Even without proper recording materials, she wasnʼt about to be so easily satisfied.

― Iʼm goïng mushroom hunting, Zelda said, promptly rising to her feet. She was beautiful, in the moonlight, disheveled though she was.

― Wait, _naked_? Link asked, but she had already skipped off.

They hoped she didnʼt step on anything poisonous while she was out.

― I have decided, Zelda announced, once she had returned with an armful of Stamella and Rushroom, found with the aid of the Sheikah slate, and begun cooking them over the fire. She glanced at Link, still lying on their back, staring up at her and the stars, and smiled. ― That I quite enjoy sex with you. I am learning a lot, and I want to keep trying new things. But considering time _is_ of the essence—I had hoped that some shrooms might speed up our recovery period, such that we might make more efficient use of our time.

― I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Link sighed, ― but given how long you are spending with _preparing_ said shrooms—I feel like you may have already spoiled any benefit which might arise.

Zelda pursed her lips at them. ― Are you game, then?

― For eating shrooms and having sex all night? Link asked. ― Sure, Din, why not. They sat up and stretched out their limbs and back.

― …You are correct in your statement that while collecting shrooms I have likely expended enough time to have recovered on my own, Zelda said, turning back towards the fire. ― But as I am now committed to cooking, the most practical solution would be—

—and Link, risen, wrapped their arms around her from behind and planted a soft kiss on her neck. Zelda blinked. ― Would be? they asked, and Zelda felt herself leaning against their body.

― …I have forgotten, she said, as their fingertips brushed up her abdomen.

They pinched gently at her nipples and she closed her eyes. ― Can you stir from a kneeling position? they asked, and she could, and assented, and let them guide her hips back, and downwards, and—

Even though she knew to expect it, the feel of their lips against her labia still came as a surprise; the feeling of them kissing—kissing!—across her pudenda to the spot of her clitoris made her gasp and nearly drop the ladle she was stirring with. They were laying on their back, beneath her, and she arched her back and angled herself towards them as—Nayru—their tongue—and sucked on her nib—

― Link, she gasped. ― Iʼm goïng to—

—and their hands were tracing up her back, her sides, lightly digging into her hips, spreading her thighs—

― —Iʼm about to burn the mushrooms, she finished, with a gasp, and it took all of her strength to lift herself off of them and transfer the fungi to a platter for cooling. Link just waited for her, their hair dangerously close to the flames, actually, now that she could properly look at them—but they were nothing if not courageous in the name of love.

― Back to the blanket with you; youʼre goïng to catch on fire, Zelda chided—and then, once they were repositioned and she had nestled herself on top of them, in a whisper: ― Who taught you how to do _that_.

― Was it okay? Link asked. ― I just sort of went with my gut—

― It was _wonderful_ , Zelda said. ― Very distracting, though. She traced down to her partnerʼs crotch, where she was pleased to find a rapidly stiffening member, and pressed her fingers upwards lightly, against their balls. ― I would like to return the favour?

And she slid down their body, kissing lightly, until her lips found their cock, and they gasped and arched their back in response.

― Right, I will likely be bad at this, she said, but, fully committed to trying, took them in, realized she needed more lubrication, licked up and down the length of their shaft, and then tried again, with more gusto this time.

Link moaned loudly and arched their hips upward; the move caught Zelda by surprise, and she gagged.

― Sorry, she said, coughing to clear her throat. ― Sorry, and she tried a third time. Link _was_ quite large when fully erect; large in a way that she quite liked, in a way that she wanted inside of her; but the actual _mechanics_ of that process certainly were more difficult than she had initially anticipated. She would have felt embarrassed, but strangely, Link didnʼt seem to mind.

Knowing what to expect and prepared for it, the third time was indeed the charm. Taking them in as far as she dared go; sliding up against their shaft until just their head was between their lips, slowly sliding down, getting a feel for the movement, her tongue pressed up against them as they filled her mouth—why was this so arousing? to her?—and then working into a steady rhythm, their hands in her hair; she could feel them getting close, and she slowed, savouring it, and they moaned, and she found herself driving them along, wanting them to—

—and they did, and there was cum against her throat, and again she nearly gagged, and she couldnʼt say which of them laughed first but it made her spew semen everywhere and in all the whole thing was a complete messy disaster except that Link looked happy and they were both having a good time and so really, she must have done something right.

― I think I only managed to swallow like, half of that, Zelda giggled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she curled up against them. ― My finish definitely needs some work. Well… that, _and_ the rest of it.

Link was not fully cognizant enough to formulate a response. Zelda smiled and snapped a quick shot of their face with the Sheikah slate, documenting their afterglow.

And then she kissed them, and it was the grossest thing imaginable, when you stopped to consider the sheer amount of fluids that their mouths had encountered and were exchanging, cum and lube and saliva from both parties, but at the same time, _what a kiss_ , and Zelda no longer felt any doubt that this was indeed a thing called love.

― It was wonderful, Link said, even if they were only saying it because it was their first time receiving fellatio, and—Zelda knew, if she would get the chance—they would have much better times to come.

But there was no time to consider her strategy now, as their lips had trailed down past her own and were now firmly against her left nipple.

― GoddESSes, Link, Iʼm alr—! AhHH—! Their fingers had found her entrance, and, rather than take the bait, were slowly tracing the edges in precisely the way she had instructed. At any other time, she would have marvelled at how Link was so quick a learner. At any other time, she would have relished it. Now, she was quite finished with foreplay, and unceremoniously pressed Linkʼs head downwards towards her crotch.

They did slip one finger inside of her, then, at the same time as their lips found her clit, sucking—their fingers—curling inside of her—fUCK—and she suddenly understood why swearing was a thing because—her back arched and her hips—gasping― ― Fuck, Link, Link, she panted, her toes curling, gently tugging them away. ― Give me a moment.

They obliged. She was sweating and breathing heavily and in _bliss_ and yet wanting _more_ and—

― Everything okay? Link asked.

― Yes, Zelda said. ― Goddesses, yes, fuck, I just needed to catch my breath.

― We have… mushrooms, Link winked at her.

― Link, if it takes any longer for me to come I _swear_ I will _combust on the spot_ ; stamina is the _last_ thing I need. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She brushed her hair out of her face and spread her legs wide. ― I just needed a moment; I think Iʼm good now, Zelda said. ― Finish me quickly, alright?

And their tongue was back upon her and their fingers were back inside her and her back arched and her hips thrusted—and she screamed, really screamed, as she came with more force and pleasure than she had ever known, or known possible, if a word such as _know_ was even appropriate for such a carnal experience, as she fell apart completely, bare and exposed and in _love_ , without a doubt now, her mind nothing but a buzz of Linkʼs smell and Linkʼs taste and Linkʼs touch and all the joys she had rescued Hyrule from the edge of darkness for.

When she came to her senses, she was snuggling, and it was a death in bliss and an awakening in heaven, on the scarred soil of her earth. She gave Link a kiss, long and soft and hard and passionate.

― That was the greatest experience of my life, Zelda said, breathlessly. ― And yet. She closed her eyes. ― Can you reach the mushrooms? I donʼt think I am able to stand. She took one graciously. ― And yet—I have a feeling that the both of us could probably do a lot better.

She wasnʼt wrong. It wasnʼt even her best orgasm of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if this worked well or not, I just wrote it because—well, I donʼt know.
> 
> If it _did_ —feel free to give Zelda a hand by documenting your experiences in the comments.


End file.
